


V Day

by UnshoddenShipper



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9724931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnshoddenShipper/pseuds/UnshoddenShipper
Summary: Simmons doesn't stand pensively at the window very often. He's no window-watcher.





	

**Author's Note:**

> special thank you to CharlyImperial, slambam and FreysGalli here on ao3! <3 go read their stuff!

Simmons doesn't stand pensively at the window very often. He's no window-watcher.

Simmons has shit to do, places to be. He's got teammates to babysit and a squad to lead. 

So why is he here? Oddly melancholy, and gazing out from the little porthole of their room?

He hears the door slide open and shut behind him. If he focuses just on the glass, and nothing beyond... Simmons can make out Grif's shape moving around behind him.

"Hey," Dex greets, leaning a hand on the wall. He strips his boots off, letting them clunk one by one onto the cold metal floor.

Simmons turns, trying to not look as withdrawn as he feels. He greets the man too, but something tips Grif off and he glances up curiously. Damn.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"I told you, I'm fine," Simmons insists, watching Grif approach. Mostly because he knows there's nothing the other man can do about this funk. Dexter leans casually on the wall with the little window, folding his arms. He regards Simmons evenly, making the cyborg huff.

"Oh boy," Simmons relents. "What is it?"

"It's V Day," Grif chirps simply.

"That's your opening line?"

"No, dude. ..Well, it can be. But I mean it's really Valentine's Day. On Earth."

Simmons gets a little frown, gaze flicking to the window and back. His poker-face is shit, and always has been.

"Yeah."

Grif pinches his brows together, making that 'thinking face' Dick finds handsome. "That's why you're acting weird?"

"I was thinking about Valentine's Day last year."

"Mmm. Good times."

"And the year before that."

"Also good. Even if we bolth got sick."

Simmons looks right at Grif’s face, lips drawing into a thin line. 

"...I just seriously thought we'd be back home by now."

Grif blinks, brow smoothing out. "Oh."

The shorter Red reaches for Simmons’ flesh hand, which Dick surrenders. Grif clasps it in his own and draws it up to the side of his face. He turns, softly smooching the blue veins on Simmons’ inner wrist. It gets a crooked grin from Rich.

They may be stuck here... but they were stuck here together. 

_And that’s something,_ Simmons thinks fondly.

"...Would sex help?" Grif asks, blunt and good-naturedly. Simmons snorts, wrinkling his nose when he smiles wider.

“Yeah.”

"Then c'mere." Grif draws him in slowly, and Simmons smiles all the while. He turns to let himself be engulfed from behind, and Grif doesn’t disappoint. His soft belly presses Simmons’ back.

 _“I want to make you wet,"_ Grif murmurs from behind him. His hands wander Simmons' waist, and Richard doesn’t know if the blood’s rushing down between his legs or up into his face. Either way he’s smiling, leaning rearward into this. He lets himself be wrapped snug in Grif’s arms.

“Griiif…” he groans, and not in the sexy way. It’s an embarrassed but pleased, nasally nerd sound that plucks Dexter’s heart.

“You know, it’s Valentine’s Day,” the man hums at his ear jokingly, as if they hadn’t just established that.

“You mean like the Linkin Park song?”

Slowly and deliberately, Grif’s pressing a ‘zipper’ at the nape of Simmons’ neck. It’s magnetic, and the only sound it makes is Grif’s finger-pad dragging on Red’s black undersuit.

“Go ahead,” Grif quips, in that same, quiet voice. “Make fun of me. I’ll bet you did listen to Linkin Park.”

Simmons takes an easy breath and as it passes his lips, he can feel his energy shift. His chronic stress is loosening like knots. More and more he’s jelling– boneless berry jam in a thick, familiar embrace.

A sigh from Simmons... wistful as he leans. “I had an angry teenager phase.”

“That implies you left it.”

Simmons turns his head, slanting a look over his shoulder.

“Smartass.”

“Mm. And yet here we are.” Grif rests his chin to the other Red’s shoulder. His gloved fingers are cool, stroking Simmons’ bare back under the unzipped suit. “Another Valentine’s Day and you haven’t left me yet.”

“Mm.” Dick parrots the noise right back, unthinking. “I don’t get what the big deal is.”

Simmons folds his arms comfortably, and looks out at gold-glowing city of Armonia. Cement and metal, creating the grayest damn city Simmons had ever seen. Even with the setting sun.

His reflection, and Grif’s behind him, are cast back in the glass like ghosts.

“All holidays are just days,” Richard talks, watching the sun sink. “Why celebrate on the 14th? And February doesn’t even exist here. The year’s different.”

“Yeah.” Grif mouths his ear, warm and _moist._ There’s a word.

“That’s not even our sun.”

“Mmhm.”

“If you ask me, keeping track of what time it is on Earth, is just an invite for homesickness.”

“Well it’s sure not an invite for romance,” Grif grumbles, never pulling away.

Simmons’ mouth quirks up.

He turns in the shorter man’s arms, and Grif changes his embrace in sync with him.

“You didn’t give me a gift, did you? ...I don’t have a gift for you,” Simmons apologizes, quietly. His long arms drape across Grif’s shoulders, pushing and dragging down the other’s ‘zipper’, too.

“No.” Grif’s lip curls, looking honestly put-out at this admission.

“It snuck up on me. ...I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Simmons tells him quietly. “I thought it was just me for a second.”

“Nah. ..You know what I can give you, though.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that.”

Grif slings an arm across Dick’s shoulders, like a companionable con artist. He gestures into the room, as if the things are floating in the air.

 _“Orgasms._ Good ones.”

“Not mediocre ones?” Simmons teases, crushed fondly to Grif’s side. How could he not?

“Not even. Only the best for you, buddy.”

Crawling into bed, they peel each other out of their undersuits… freeing one arm, then another. Peeling it over a chest; trading a grope, a kiss. It’s the same as every time they don’t have to rush.

Sometimes, it feels like this is the only thing Simmons can always count on.

Grif will always be here. He’ll always kiss the same; touch the same; smell the same. Chapped; warm; cigarettes.

“Where the fuck are you getting cigs?”

“Really, Simmons. Do we have to do this _now.”_

Simmons huffs and flops against the bed. He lets Grif peck himself content; basking in the attention for a while. Lips on his neck, his sternum...

The ginger’s eyes slide closed. He shuffles in his spot, and bares his neck for more.

“You said you’d be cutting back,” he complains.

Lips and tongue find the pulse under Richard’s jaw, and too-dry hands paw his chest.

“I am!”

“And what about–”

“Is this gonna be a sexy question.” Grif looks up, caressing under Simmons’ nipples. They go stiff and pink under his attention, and Simmons hums. He digs his fingers into Grif’s forearms to keep him there.

“What about your cholesterol?”

“I guess not.”

Grif sits up on his knees, and starts shoving the black suit over his hips. Simmons reaches out, and together they wriggle it down the man’s thighs.

“My boner is dying, Simmons– it’s wasting away...”

“You’re gonna be dying,” Dick points out, as they strip him too.

“We’re one in the same!”

He opens his legs and Grif crawls between them; the pair folding together. Dex groans as they line up, rubbing together wet and warm. Simmons claims Grif’s jaw and makes the man to look him right in the eye. He gives no resistance, but Grif does make an intrigued, suggestive humming noise. Horny fucker.

“You are not one in the same!” he insists. Grif isn’t taking this seriously enough!! “I could live without your dick.”

Grif gasps, and Simmons immediately groans. He drops his head back to the bed but it’s too late. He turns his face away.

“You what?” Oh, Dick’s in some shit now. Grif is all harassment and affection, folding them into a tighter naked origami frog to get all up in Simmons’ space. He smushes his grin to Simmons’ cheek, squishing it. His thumb teases the man’s clit and he gets a throaty moan for it.

“I can’t believe you just said that!”

One green and one cybernetic eye both slant open to watch Grif. Simmons starts bucking his hips.

“You’re being dumb and I’m gonna grow old alone.”

 _“You’re_ melodramatic.”

 _“You’re_ not fucking me!”

“Yeah well you’re– okay, you got me there.”

Finally. Grif’s mouthing the side of Simmons’ neck, and rolls his hips into the other’s. His grinding pushes Simmons into the bed and Dick quickly makes a groan, nails digging into Grif’s ass.

Rich pushes his chest up and gasps as Grif slides down, suckling and licking every inch. He feels peppering kisses on the underside of his breast– and Simmons grips the man’s hair, trying to tug him up to the nipple. Where the good stuff is. Obviously.

Grif goes pliantly and circles the peak with his wet tongue, groaning on it.

– – –

Armonian moons are weird and Simmons can see three of them upside-down outside the window.

Tono, Nota and Accordo. It’s amazing Accordo has water on it... That’s why it’s blue…. Why is Simmons thinking about this?

“I’m losing my patience,” Richard growls through his teeth, trying to be sexy; not nerding about astronomy with Grif edging him breathless. Dick gets a shit-eating grin on his face, leg trembling.

The man between his legs circles Simmons’ clit endlessly with his fingers in a mess, kissing and nuzzling and licking the most sensitive skin in the world-- where his thighs and sex blurred together. Grif’s stubble rubs and it’s scratchy, when Simmons is already aflame and panting. He’s been teased and worked over too long, goddammit!

“Karma’s gonna be a bitch when it comes to get you!” he warns breathlessly.

Grif pauses only a moment. He looks up with heavy eyes; says–

“The only thing coming for me is gonna be you.”

–And lowers his head again, sucking hickies on his open thighs.

“Ohhh ho. Clever.”

“Thank you.” Lick! “I came up with that just now, actually.”

Oh-? Oh. Simmons tenses, sweat on his skin and starting to shake.

“Dex-!”

Simmons starts making little cries and Grif looks up excitedly, finally dragging his tongue on the man’s labia. Dick calls out and seizes a pillow, smashing it to his face as his toes curl and he can’t spread his legs wide enough.

“Griiiiif, come on!!” he wails into the fluff.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“I’m guh-” A hard swallow, inner thighs shivering and achy it kinda hurts but in a good way– “Guh, gonna, die like this, asshole-!”

 _“Do you want me to stop?”_ Grif’s pulled his tongue off Simmons and the cyborg keens, fists twisting in the pillow.

“Nuh- no! No no no, don’t y-!! Grif!! Grif, **yes!”**

Simmons is curling up and shrieking into the pillow, as Grif fervently eats out between his legs. A pulse, pulse, pulse of nothing but release; hard and fast he’s wiped blank and comes out moaning. Grif keeps going and Simmons rolls with him, pulling Grif’s hair roughly. It gets him a hard suck and Simmons can only grunt, fingers _squeeeezing_ until they shake.

Dick rides it until sexy-overstimulated just makes him twitch, pushing softly at Grif’s brow. He can feel the man’s breaths puff on his soaked sex when they break apart.

_...Well that was loud,_ Simmons thinks, flopping slack on the bed. 

“Eh.. they can deal with it. We’re Superior Officers,” Grif answers what was apparently said. Simmons, red-faced as a beet, tosses the pillow off to look down at him. 

Grif’s propped up on an elbow, chin in-hand and hair sticking up where Simmons had seized him. Watching the other Red, Dex swipes slick off his chin and licks it off his thumb. 

“Grif!” Simmons pushes him with a knee, enough to get a smirk. 

Dex slinks up Simmons’ body, draaaagging skin on skin and Simmons arches for it, welcomes him. Simmons eggs him closer with a panting, sweaty grinding. As Grif leans down to claim a kiss the cyborg grapples him 'round the hips, legs seizing, and flips Grif flat on his back. 


End file.
